


Hunger

by Stardust_66



Series: Centre-back and Scouser lad - 466 ficlets [4]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, Liverpool F.C., M/M, Male Homosexuality, My First Smut, Phone Sex, Pining, Questioning, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22951624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardust_66/pseuds/Stardust_66
Summary: He can't remember where he was, or how he got pinned to the ground, lying on the carpet with Virgil fucking van Dijk on top of him."The overwhelming feeling...is hunger." - TAA during his Sky Sports interview after the West Ham match, February 24, 2020.
Relationships: Trent Alexander Arnold/Virgil Van Dijk
Series: Centre-back and Scouser lad - 466 ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640728
Comments: 29
Kudos: 45





	1. Trent - The Craving

**Author's Note:**

> This is my longest VirgilTrent/466 fic yet, also the most smutty one so far! It will be 3 chapters, probably more.  
> Hope you enjoy it! 😉
> 
> *The characters in this story are fictional*

0  
He can't remember where he was, or how he got pinned to the ground, lying on the carpet with _Virgil fucking van Dijk_ on top of him.

  
1  
Trent had been content with his life consisting almost entirely of football, family, and school. He tried to date a few girls when he was younger, mainly out of peer pressure from his mates, and his innate competitiveness. Those girls were nice. His parents liked them. He remembered holding hands, and chaste kisses. But to be honest, he didn't miss any of them much after he signed his first professional contract for Liverpool. Life was busy and fulfilling, and he found a better outlet for his competitiveness. Maybe he was just not that interested in people compared to football?  
It was all good, until Big Virg joined Liverpool. It was all his fault. Fuck Virgil van Dijk for being so _fucking_ hot.

  
* * *

It was supposed to be a regular afternoon of training drills, just like any other. Spring was approaching, and it was an unusually sunny day. But other than that, nothing out of the ordinary. Trent had his usual banter with Ox and Robbo after lunch, casually checked out Virgil's backside when walking behind him onto the training pitch, and jogged around the pitch next to Joe, almost getting into another debate about who the faster sprinter was.

But they switched up the groupings today, and he somehow ended up with Virgil as his partner for the remaining floor and stretching exercises. When he tilted his head up at the taller man, his outline glowing from the late-afternoon sun behind him, Trent felt something was different. It didn't help that Virgil directed his usual charming lop-sided smile towards him at that moment.

They took turns for the exercises, and Virgil sat down first to do crunches. Trent's role was to squat on his heels and press down on Virgil's feet. This left him in the unfortunate position of directly facing Virgil's crotch, visible through his bent and parted knees. Trent was torn between being impressed by Virgil's size and being impressed by his stamina. He soon got distracted and lost count. But Virgil just kept on going, and didn't seem to mind at all.

They got through the rest of the exercises without too much trouble, although Trent was again briefly distracted by the feel and warmth of Virgil's skin when helping him stretch his hamstrings. Soon it was Trent's turn to stretch, and he felt with a grimace that his cock was already hard.

He laid down gingerly on the grass and lifted his right leg up, suddenly fully aware of how ill-fitting his shorts were, as they draped down his thighs - can Virgil see his underwear - or worse, his bulge - from the angle where he's standing above him? But on either side of him, his teammates were already moving on with the stretch. Trent didn't want to be the last one to finish and attract more attention. So he bit on his lower lip and tried to find a neutral point somewhere to gaze at. It would be weird to close his eyes, but equally awkward if he turned his head and looked sideways. So it seemed he had no where to look but up, at Virgil holding his right calf and right foot, helping him stretch. Virgil was looking down at him with the sun to his back, his features obscured in shadow, and Trent couldn't read his expression. 

Somewhere, their head trainer was keeping count. The seconds felt like hours to Trent, and he was acutely aware of the heat transferring from Virgil's palm to his ankle and calf. Judging by how hot his own cheeks felt, Trent was dead sure he was blushing. Being aware of that fact only made him more embarrassed. He hoped everyone was too busy with their own stretching exercises to notice.

When it was finally time to switch legs, he thought he caught Virgil swallowing hard, while looking at the bulge beneath his training shorts. But it was all over in seconds, in a flurry of movements and changing positions. So he could be imagining it. His own cheeks though, were definitely still burning, and his dick painfully hard.

* * *

Trent couldn't sleep that night. And after some Googling on his phone under the covers, he somehow ended up on a YouTube video titled "How do you know if you're gay?" He bit down on his lips while the video played.

"Dude, if you are thinking about a specific person......" A lad dressed in bright colours said in an American accent, "I'm telling you. If you are searching for this at 3am because you couldn't sleep......AND you have someone the same sex as you in mind while watching this? You gay." 

Trent panicked a bit, tossed his phone onto the nightstand, and decided to not think about it too much. Even if he did have a crush on Virg, he could be an exception, right? It didn't mean he was gay. He didn't need to deal with the ramifications of being a gay footballer right now, especially when he wasn't even sure himself.

But he was turned on by Virgil today, of that he was certain. He drifted into sleep without knowing what to do with that thought.

* * *

He had a horny dream that night, of being pinned down on the floor by Virgil's strong arms, the Dutchman's low voice rumbling in his ears and sending vibrations downwards through his bones and veins, all the way to his cock. 

The vivid memories of the warmth and smoothness of Virgil's skin came back to Trent, along with grunting noises that escaped while doing more strenuous exercises. The heat flowing in his own stomach and concentrating towards his cock was also familiar, in addition to a new sensation in his chest and lower belly.

Something was scratching, gnawing, but the itch only got stronger and more persistent. He felt a craving unlike he has ever experienced before.

Upon waking up, Trent quickly and shamefully jerked himself off, and tried hard not to think about that video, nor the tone of the youtuber who declared with finality that he was gay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer Chp 2 is on the way! Please let me know what you liked best! Comments make my day and help me write faster! 😆
> 
> Also changed my writing style a bit from previous ficlets - trying hard to write smut, hopefully it's not too ooc! >_<


	2. Trent - The Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He craves Virgil's attention and, more so, his touch. He wants to know what it is like to cause him to unravel - to mess up that perfect image of calmness and composure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the majority of this chapter has been sitting in my draft folder for days...I'm not sure where to go with this smutty story. But here you go! Hope you like it!
> 
> (Minor edits made on April 5)

2

Trent felt awkward during training the next day, and almost turned down the offer when Virg, Joe, and Hendo asked him to join a game of basketball afterwards. He had to force himself to look Virgil in the eye and act natural, even though all he could think about was that dream. Unsurprisingly, Trent's free-throw accuracy was far worse than usual, and got quickly eliminated - which was all the better since he could just sit on the bench and watch.

The heating in the gym was turned all the way up, and soon Virgil and Joe took their shirts off. Trent was pretending to check his phone, but couldn't help but appreciate Virgil's physique as much as he could. He hoped his three teammates were too focused on their game to notice his staring. Not long after, he felt his own body temperature rise, and quickly left the gym with a lame excuse, pretending not to hear Joe's teasing voice behind him.

* * *

Trent couldn't get Virgil out of his head, after watching him play basketball topless on that particular day.

That's ridiculous, that. He has seen everyone pretty much naked before, in the dressing rooms, showers, and hotels. Sure, objectively speaking, Virgil is big, strong, and undeniably sexy. There's a reason that the Virgil van Dijk fan chant is one of the most popular ones - even Jamie Carragher appeared smitten with him at times. But Trent can easily think of a few other lads who have better looking abs than his, at least (Joe and Mo for example). And Trent's not too shabby himself, either - he's been working out in addition to team training, and put on more muscle mass these past few months.  
There's no reason why Virgil would suddenly appear more attractive than ever to him - no rational reason Trent can think of, anyway. Or rather, there is an obvious reason which he doesn't want to admit.

Ever since that weird training session a week ago, he has been dreaming more and more of Virgil. In the privacy of his own mind, he could stare at the imposing figure however he wants, instead of relying on casual looks during passing conversations. The centre back often seemed distant in his dreams though, mysterious and unattainable, and Trent had to resort to jerking off upon waking up, chasing that image in his mind.

...

He craves Virgil's attention and, more so, his touch. He wants to know what it is like to cause him to unravel - to mess up that perfect image of calmness and composure. He wants to see his impeccably groomed hair come loose, twist the curls around his finger while nipping one of his earlobes. He wants to wet that tiny patch of darker-coloured skin under Virgil's left eye with the tip of his tongue. He wants to devour those lips, along with every kind of mind-numbing lewd noise he could lure out of them.

* * *  
His dream had evolved.

...  
Watching Virgil topless definitely helped fill in a lot more detail to the Virgil in his dreams. He now knows for sure what the muscles and scars underneath Virgil's clothes look like. What didn't change was how damned confident Virgil was, his smile almost a smirk, fully aware of the effect he has on Trent.

Because it had been such a reoccurring dream by now, tonight Trent was quite aware he was dreaming. He thought, "Fuck it. It's my dream and I could do whatever I want to him."

So he launched himself up at Virgil, arms clinging to the centre back's neck and lean legs tightly clamping his waist, in a sudden but futile attempt to flip him over on the bed. Virgil saw it coming - of course it was naïve of Trent to have underestimated the alertness and foresight of the world's current best defender. Virgil effortlessly pressed Trent down, straddling him, using his own size and strength to his advantage.

Virgil was full-on smirking now, wide palms firmly holding Trent in place by the shoulders. Trent felt himself sweating, heart beating faster out of excitement, as he watched Virgil lick the corner of his own lips suggestively. Virgil put another pillow under Trent's neck to angle his head better, then shifted position and moved up Trent's body. He leaned back slightly, one hand still on Trent's shoulders, the other directing his hard-on towards Trent. Trent's tongue smoothed across his own lips subconsciously, mirroring the older man's tongue from a few seconds ago.

He angled his neck upwards - the extra pillow helped - and tentatively licked the tip of Virgil's dick, immediately releasing a delicous moan from the other man. Encouraged by the response, he propped himself up on his elbows, and placed one hand on top of Virgil's hand, holding the base of his cock and aiming it better towards himself. He swallowed the entire length, relishing the heat and velvety texture, before slowly pulling back up, tracing the veins with his tongue on its way out. Amist the obscene noises he's making with Virgil's dick, he could also hear the other man's breathing get heavier, moans escaping through his pressed lips from time to time. He repeated the motion, even slower this time, and was quite pleased with himself to hear Virgil groan desperately. Trent then decided to peel off Virgil's hand from the base of his dick while he was distracted by pleasure, to gain full control of what's still in his mouth. He squeezed the base gently, then shoved it quickly and deeply into his throat, and started fucking his mouth with Virgil's dick with more force than before. He liked it rough, and wanted Virgil to know that before the other man eventually fucked his ass. But he wanted to enjoy this for a while longer...

"Arghh...Trent, you fucking little...I'm close..." Virgil managed to let out while Trent was driving him mad.

Trent wanted to smile triumphantly, but realized his mouth was too busy. He pushed out Virgil's dick once more, this time hollowing his cheeks near the end, and sucked on the head, gently grazing the tip with his incisors. That was the last straw, and Virgil shot his load all over Trent's face, the majority of it landing past his swollen red lips into his eager mouth.

* * *

Trent blinked and noticed his lips were wet. He was drooling from the corner of his mouth. He absentmindedly wiped it with the back of his hand, and found himself drenched in sweat. He reached down under the covers and had to face the reality that he made a right mess, his cock already spent. He felt the cold air on his exposed skin, along with a sense of loss and emptiness.

He closed his eyes once more, and savoured that dream. If only he could store it somewhere safe in his often overactive mind, to retrieve in moments of weakness.

But for now, he would take what he could get. All of the winks, smiles, and chuckles, the warm breaths and vibrations on his skin. The elbow brushing his forearm, the palm landing on his shoulder, fingers gently and lovingly moving across his scalp during goal-celebrating hugs - the only times when he could truly lean into Virgil without creating awkward silences.

He selfishly wants to keep all of his Virgil moments to himself. All of them carefully labelled and stowed away, to be revisited as treats to himself on good days, and medication on bad ones.

But he is also more aware of the growing sense of hunger inside of him. It demands more. Not easily subsided by stolen glances and recollections, it craves something more substantial, desires something physical and raw.

Trent groaned in bed, and hid his face behind his hands.

"I am so fucked."

-TBC?-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably hitting a writer's block? Not happy with what I have so far (I find writing smut for the sake of it unsatisfying). I've thought about abandoning this fic and wait till inspiration hits for another story in my previous style (more like Clueless). But I decided to post the draft version of what I have so far. You probably noticed bits of it are choppy (I was going to write more in places with '...'). There may or may not be a third chapter in Virgil's perspective (again, he's so hard to read!! I feel like whatever I write would be out-of-character)
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed the smut more than I did!


	3. Trent - The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being so patient with me! Football fics and interviews are keeping me sane right now, when there are no live matches going on...Enjoy, and stay safe! ❤️
> 
> (Sorry if their conversations are not in their own voices - I'm neither English nor Dutch and coming up with a chat between these two is hard, since they barely had a conversation in any of the LFC videos lol I based this off some of their individual interviews though!)
> 
> (Minor edits made on April 5th and 21st)

"Well, I think these things obviously need to go naturally anyway...But, I, I definitely speak to _certain_ boys, like I always do throughout the whole season anyway. That's just always the case."

\-- VVD, April 2 LFC interview, when asked whether he speaks privately to one or two young players to check how they are coping with being stuck at home. 

(A weirdly specific question in an otherwise great interview imo. And Virgil gave an even stranger answer. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, and deliberately tried to avoid naming who he spoke to, even dragging the Dutch national team into it with his next sentence. So yeah, thanks to Virgil for being not as calm as he could be at that moment, as well as Trent participating in a FIFA livestream the next day, for inspiring this chapter.)

* * *

Trent watches Virgil's newest interview once again.

He notices new details each time. Like how Virgil's unshaven look somehow elongates his face, or how he smiles a lot more when talking about football and zooming with the team during the pandemic, compared to when talking about his family, or how nondescript his choice of background is for the video interview (it's literally just a wall with two doors and digital thermostats).

He takes in Virgil's smile recalling one of his first games for Holland, playing as right-back, and makes a mental note to ask to watch it with him one day.

His overactive mind offers him an image of the two of them relaxing on a sofa, Virgil's left arm casually resting on Trent's back. The happier version of himself in that silent scene says something, probably teasing Virgil and how poor a right-back he was by the looks of it, then laughs wildly, almost bouncing off the sofa. He turns his head, tears of joy in his eyes, and finds Virgil gazing at him intensely, leaning in and trapping him on the sofa with his wide frame...

_...One day._

Suddenly his room feels too small.

Trent closes the youtube browser tab, goes to the living room, strolls outside into the backyard, pets his dogs, aimlessly strolls back in, hovers in front of the fridge, and wanders back into his bedroom. His eyes land on his phone on the nightstand.

He finally admits to himself how much he misses playing in the team, how much he misses his mates, and casually brushing arms and stealing glances at Virgil. The past few weeks feel like months, if not years.

He goes back out into the kitchen and opens the fridge. His left hand hovered over a can of red bull, but picked up a beer instead.

(He's been deprived of football and his crush already for fucks sake. He's earned it. He'll train for an extra hour tomorrow to make up for this.)

Trent sulkily sips on his beer alone in his room, not enjoying it as much as he hoped. Minutes pass, and thanks to months of rigorous training and abstinence, he starts feeling the pleasant buzzing effect from alcohol quickly.

Before he goes crazy imagining more romcom scenes, or thinks too much and lets all his liquid-fueled courage evaporate, Trent opens the Contacts app and looks for that all-too-familiar number. Familiar not from frequent use, but from being frequently, longingly stared at.

His phone buzzes at the moment. He jumps and almost drops it.

It's a FaceTime request from Virgil.

******

"Hey."

"Ehm, Hey! Hi!" In his panic Trent dropped his phone after all, thankfully just on his bed. The camera was pointing towards the ceiling. He took the opportunity to quickly check what he was wearing and run his free hand over his hair, then plopped down on his bed, trying to adjust his voice so it doesn't sound as shocked and high-pitched as it did just now.

Trent took a deep breath, put down the beer can and picked up his phone, adjusting it to a flattering angle. To his disappointment, Virgil's video wasn't on. He felt cheated.

"C'mon! You FaceTime _me_ , and you don't even turn on video? Shocking, that!"

"I missed you too, Trent."

Trent could hear the grin in the other man's voice, and couldn't help but return one of his own toothy grins.

"So? Can I see you now? Like a proper chat?"

"I'm afraid not. I'm in my basement. Some youtube users told me the lighting here isn't very flattering."

"Pfft. Fuck them. And that's a poor excuse, that."

Trent realized he just let a cuss word slip in front of an elder teammate, another effect from alcohol during this crazy period of quarantine. Someone like Hendo would probably call him out on that, under normal circumstances, and remind him about media training and all. But it was Virgil on the other end, who was always chill, and would most likely not even raise an eyebrow at that. Trent was also enjoying the banter, and did not regret his word choice.

"To be fair though, my appearance, from staying home too long...Let's just say it isn't up to my usual standards."

"Like I said, excuses!" Trent was ready to pretend he hadn't watched Virgil's newest video interview an embarrassing amount of times - so much so that he can see the unshaven Virgil clearly in his mind. He subconsciously swallowed.

"I just wanted to speak with you today. Maybe we can have a 'proper chat' next time."

Trent felt his heart miss a beat, at the implication that this surprise call could become a reoccurring event. 

"Alright then. But it's only fair if I turn off my video also." An idea popped into Trent's head while he shifted into a more comfortable position on his bed.

"Hmm. Fair point." Virgil switched to a voice call. "So what've you been up to?"

"Nothin' much, really. Just trying to train at home, watching old matches, and playing FIFA, you?"

"About the same. Good game the other day, by the way. That guy was pro, no?"

"Wait you watched the live stream on twitch? I didn't know you were into e-gaming?"

"Well...I like playing FIFA. Also have a contract with them and all. And now there's no live football on, obviously...To be fair though, it's good entertainment."

If this was suspiciously too much explanation from Virgil, Trent didn't notice, since he was shocked Virgil watched the livestream at all. He had lost 0-3, but the three games were fairly close, considering the opponent was a professional gamer. What concerned him more at the moment was that he took part in the livestream while answering lots of fan questions, some of them personal. And when trying his best to win those games while being distracted by questions and small talk, he might have simply spoke what came to mind instead of following his strict media training.

Trent bit his lower lip and frantically tried to remember if he said anything embarrassing during the livestream, or could possibly hint at his crush on Big Virg. If he recalls correctly, he didn't mention Virgil's name even once. Or was that more suspicious in a way?

He did answer the dreaded "Do you have a girlfriend" question with "No. I'm single." That should be a safe answer, right? (And it did not completely rule out him being gay, whenever he was ready to accept that.)

He then realized even though his mind was racing, he still caused an awkward pause in their conversation. So he quickly gave a recap of the games, trying to convince Virgil that he didn't play as bad as the scoreline suggested.

But Virgil seemed more interested in what Trent _said_ during the livestream.

"So you chose Ox to be your quarantine partner, huh? Bit of a surprise, isn't it?"

"What? Why?"

"Didn't know you boys were that close." Virgil paused for a moment, then carefully added, "Thought you'd pick Robbo. Or Hendo, maybe."

_Or I was hoping you'd pick me._

"Well I gave a good reason for that, no?

"Debatable. The question asked you to choose a teammate, not a teammate and their family, you know."

Trent didn't know how to respond. Of course he couldn't give his real answer to thousands of fans and strangers. He took a little while to come up with a reasonable answer to that fan question, one that he could back up with facts. He even got so distracted that the opponent team scored a goal during that time!

"So what? You didn't even answer the same question on Twitter!" Trent remembered being disappointed by the #AskVirgil thread, when Virgil ignored this popular question; also he praised Joe, but didn't mention Trent even once.

"Oh, so you read that whole thread then?" The tone was bordering on teasing. Or it could be the alcohol Trent's body is not used to.

"Nah, just some of the retweets. You embarrassed Carra, you know."

"He's a tough guy. He'll live."

Trent couldn't help but let out a chuckle. He feels happy and warm inside, listening to Virgil's deep and steady voice, while trying to quietly sip on his beer from time to time. He did not expect it would be so easy to talk to - and have a conversation with - Virgil in private. It almost made him wonder what might have happened, if he were just a little braver earlier on. If he initiated interactions more, rather than quietly but intensely crushing on the older man.

Trent relaxed more into the mattress. Virgil was saying something on the phone about his latest interview with Carragher. Trent found his own attention drifting, picking up more on the tone and accented syllables in Virgil's speech, instead of the actual meaning of the words...

******

"Seriously though, Trent, how are you coping?

...Trent?"

Trent's head jerked up at the call of his name, by a voice he often dreamt of. He felt his face heat up, as it became clear that he almost dozed off - with Virgil's voice to his ear, and his own right hand down his sweatpants.

Shit. Did he make any noises? Did Virgil hear anything? 

But of course he couldn't bring that up now.

"Emm, I'm alright thanks?" A lame automatic answer, that. Trent mentally slapped himself for not actively continuing the conversation.

What would he give for hearing that voice call his name with tenderness and a hint of concern again.

"Yeah? Are you home with your family?"

"No, I've a better gym at me own place. It's just me and the dogs."

"I see..."

The vowel dragged on, followed by another pause. Trent swallowed, then out of nowhere decided to finish his beer. He blinked hard, still palming himself, and wished Virgil would talk some more so he can get his boner over with.

"I can help you though. " Virgil continued, voice still low and steady, the end of each sentence gentler than the beginning. "You know, if you're lonely."

Trent drew a sharp breath. His mouth felt dry.

_Does this mean what I think it means? Am I dreaming again?_

He regretted downing his beer too early. He could use another drink right now, something stronger. But both of his hands were occupied, and he didn't want to miss anything.

In his stunned silence, the sound of Virgil breathing came through and felt closer than ever - almost as if he was right there, speaking into his ear. He could imagine the heat on his earlobe. Trent did not want to turn on speaker phone and lose that illusion of proximity.

"You were having a wank weren't you." It was gentle, but it wasn't a question. Trent felt a strange excitement override his embarrassment from being found out. He must have moaned earlier when he was dozing off, palming himself to Virgil's calm voice in his dreams.

"Y-Yeah."

"Hmm. Good boy, being honest. Like I said, I can help you. Talk you through it." 

"...Okay." Words were failing him right now. Trent suddenly felt young and inexperienced, the age difference between them more evident than ever.

"Right. Now, make yourself comfortable. Where are you right now?"

"Sitting in me bed."

"Good. Take off your sweatpants for me, Trent."

Trent felt heat rapidly rise to his ears as well as down south at the command. He tilted his head to keep the phone between his ear and left shoulder, and used one hand to wiggle out of his sweatpants. He was still keeping the other hand on his cock, too horny to let go.

The sound of fabric ruffling must have gone through, because Virgil continued, "Now put one hand on your underpants - if you're not touching yourself underneath them already."

"Not wearing any." Trent quickly said with a blush, voice low but clear. He thought he heard a grunt on the other end. When Virgil continued, his voice took on a deeper tone.

" _Naughty boy_ , aren't you, Trent?" 

Trent realized being addressed as that by Virgil was a huge turn-on for him. He leaned into the touch and released a moan. Virgil hummed in approval.

Trent was encouraged by the response and offered: "I'm hard already Virg. Help me?"

Virgil's breath hitched, almost imperceptibly. But Trent was now hyper-focused on every sound coming from his phone, and felt his dick harden even more at such a tiny noise.

"Right. So wrap your hand loosely around it, start at the base and slowly move up. Don't speed up unless I tell you to."

"Now give it a squeeze, glide your thumbnail over any veins you find, then graze it over the head."

Trent was trying as hard as he could to follow instructions and not come early, but hearing the other man's breathing get heavier suggesting he was just as turned on did not help at all.

"Quickly slide your palm back down to the bottom, now go up with a stronger, tighter grip. Imagine that's my hand. Go faster a few times and quickly give it a twist at the top." 

Trent gave up trying to suppress his moans by this point, and started going much faster up and down his shaft, his remaining consciousness tuned to Virgil's quickened breathing. It was easy to imagine the older man next to him, enjoying watching him jerk himself off. He pulled up a mental image of Virgil from the recent interview again - casually smiling, unshaven. And so _domestic_. 

"Arghh, I'm close. _Fuck_. Virg--" Trent wished this could last longer, but he knew he was so close.

"Be patient now, Trent." Virgil's voice was deeper and his accent more prominent. There was some background noise suggesting he was not sitting idly himself either. 

"Just say my name again? " Trent's voice took a higher pitch, almost turning into a breathy whisper. " _Virgil please_ \--"

"Trent. Come for me, Trent."

******

Trent blinked a few times, and the first thing he noticed was the cool, smooth surface of his phone next to his face. Then he remembered he just cummed all over himself with Virgil van Dijk speaking into his ear. He must have passed out on his bed from the intense orgasm.

How long was he gone for? The cum streaks on his t-shirt haven't dried yet, so not too long?

He scrambled back into a seated position and grabbed his phone with his clean hand.

"Hi? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, dopey boy." Virgil was definitely grinning. "Get some rest, yeah? We'll chat some other time."

After hanging up, elated by what just happened as well as the promise of a future call, Trent drifted off to sleep with a wide smile on his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Social distancing can be lonely! Please talk to me and let me know what you think about this chapter! ❤️ Anything you'd like to see next?
> 
> \----  
> If you want to watch the interview I mentioned at the beginning (or just watch VVD looking hot with a good amount of facial hair - and I'm speaking as someone who doesn't like facial hair lol), here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZhCHd8-0HdY
> 
> And I don't think there's a replay for the twitch livestream, but Trent basically said he'd choose to quarantine with Ox because they are the only two on the team who don't have kids (is poor Trent the only one single on the first team then?😂), and they have a similar routine. Anyway it seemed like he had given the question a lot of thought 😉 
> 
> And the same question did come up as a top question during #AskVirgil but he didn't answer.  
> During that Q&A Jamie Carragher asked Virgil a question but Virgil didn't give him the answer he wanted lol (Also I was quite disappointed TAA didn't really take part in #AskVirgil)


End file.
